Emma
I’d always thought if a man ran out on me after s*x, it would be because I’d done something wrong.
Too loud. Too needy. Too much.
I hadn’t planned on it being because of a birthmark.
One second, Lucian was kissing his way down my spine, slow and lazy and perfect. The next, he went utterly still.
Then he recoiled.
Literally recoiled—like he’d just seen a goblin instead of the same weird smudge I’d had since birth.
“Lucian?” I’d said, breathless and confused. “What’s—”
“I—” His voice had come out rough, strangled. “I’m sorry. I have to—there’s something I need to check.”
“Check what?” I pushed up on my elbows, embarrassment and dread already starting to coil together. “Did I—did I do something?”
“No.” Too fast. His eyes were wide, fixed somewhere over my shoulder instead of on
